


Darkness Consumes

by Lady_Malvence



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7735795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Malvence/pseuds/Lady_Malvence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Children often dream of doing something to make a difference in the world. Shiro of Hyrule Castle Town was no different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hero

Shiro would often sit among the hoards of townspeople and listen as travelers and knights would regale them with fantastical stories of skeletal creatures that awoke in the night or ghostly figures that sent small wispy blue flames from their blazing lanterns to attack those unfortunate enough to cross their path. There were plantlike creatures with rows of needle sharp teeth waiting on the ground to take a bite of any who came in range of their snakelike stems. 

Exciting as he found these stories, Shiro had never known anything outside the walls of Hyrule Castle Town. He would sit by the window next to his small feather-bed and dream of the day that he would be able to leave these walls and explore the land of Hyrule and beyond. 

The fountain in the middle of town and the courtyard of the Temple of Time were often imagined into grand adventures. 

One fateful day, Shiro found himself in front of the Temple of Time. His short wooden sword dangling from its makeshift sheath at his side. He started to imagine a glorious battle unlike any seen by any of those old travelers in the marketplace when suddenly he spotted a young boy who looked to be around his age.

The other boy was clad in green like the children of the forest he had heard so much about. On his back was a wooden shield and a sword but his sword was made of metal. A small light floated around the boy's head.

"A faerie?" Shiro questioned. He knew that he wanted to know more about this other boy.

"Hello there," he called excitedly. 

The boy in green turned, his sharp blue eyes scanned his surroundings trying to find the source of the voice. 

Shiro approached him quickly grinning widely at him.

"Hi! I'm Shiro!" he exclaimed when he reached the other boy.

The other boy was silent but nodded shyly in acknowledgment.

"Are you an adventurer?!" 

The boy again nodded.

"Link! Come on!" came a shrill whine from the faerie buzzing around the boy. "We have to enter the Temple of Time!"

"Okay Navi," the boy stated quietly and with that they entered the temple without another word.

Shiro’s eyes followed them curiously as they entered the temple. His feet stayed firmly rooted to the ground, not sure whether to follow them or not.

“What could they possibly need in that old empty place?” he asked himself.

Suddenly a bright unearthly light emanated from the temple and Shiro could hear a soft melody being played on some kind of flute. His feet started moving, seemingly on their own. He moved closer to the door, peeking inside. There, at the altar was the boy that the faerie had dubbed Link with a blue ocarina in hand. Three glittering stones circled him a few times before nestling into position on the altar. The stone carving of the legendary Triforce lit up the entire room and transformed into a bright glimmering gold.

Suddenly there was a loud thump followed by the sound of stone grinding against stone. Shiro’s eyes widened as the door to the inner temple opened, revealing another large chamber. The other chamber seemed darker than the entryway with rays of sunlight piercing through the few windows. Dust motes wafted throughout the seemingly empty room, showing just how long it had been since the door was last opened.

Shiro’s eyes followed the sunlight to the middle of the room where a large stone slab, a pedestal situated perfectly in the center of it. His eyes widened even more with the realization that embedded in the pedestal was a sword. This was not any ordinary sword however. It was the legendary blade of evil’s bane, the Master Sword.

Link stepped into the middle of the slab, placing both feet on either side of the Master Sword. It was rather comical seeing him pull out the sword which was much too big for him. Link was suddenly enveloped in a blinding blue light and then he and the Master Sword were gone. 

Deep, sinister laughter filled the now empty temple. Shiro’s eyes darted around the room before landing on a tall man wearing dark armor with hair the color of flames. 

“I knew you held the door to the Sacred Realm,” his booming voice reverberating off the stone walls. 

Shiro tried to leave as quietly as he could but he was not quiet enough for the sharp ears of the Gerudo king. Ganondorf turned to see the boy’s retreating figure. 

“Koume! Kotake!” he bellowed. 

Two elderly women sitting atop of a couple of brooms suddenly appeared behind Ganondorf.

“Find that boy. Make sure that he’s on our side. He might prove...useful.” 

“As you wish master,” Koume responded. “Come Kotake.”

The two women spun around a couple of times on their brooms before vanishing. Ganondorf's evil laughter resonated throughout the temple before exiting the building to proceed with his plans.

Shiro stopped running after his feet hit the cobblestone plaza of the marketplace. He stood with his hands resting on his knees. His breaths coming out as labored pants. 

Whispered hatred suddenly filled his ears, "He is the hero you will never be," one sinister whisper taunted. 

"Who's there?" Shiro questioned, looking around frantically.

"You are not strong enough," hissed another voice. 

"Not powerful enough," they both speak in unison.

"STOP!" he screamed clamping his hands over his ears. "Please stop..."

Everyone in the plaza stopped what they were doing to see what had upset the boy. Even the couple near the fountain who always seemed oblivious to everyone and everything around them stopped their eternal dance to see what was going on. 

Tears streamed down his face as his eyes moved from face to face, wondering why no one else had heard the voices. His body trembled uncontrollably. He slowly removed his hands from his ears, tentatively listening but hearing nothing but the murmurs of the crowd.

He stood up straight and ran as fast as he could to his small house in the residential district. His house was not the grandest in town but it was cozy and he loved it so. He bolted through the door, past his mother who was in the kitchen and up the wooden steps to his tiny loft.

Sitting on his bed, he pulled his knees up to his chest, rocking back and forth. Frightened tears streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face into his knees. 

“Not powerful enough...Not strong enough...” the voices repeated in his head.

Shiro curled his body into a small ball and pulled the covers over himself. He honestly didn’t know why he was crying but he was terrified. Slowly, he lulled himself into a fitful slumber.


	2. Destruction

A few years had passed and Shiro had almost forgotten about the boy from the temple and the man in dark armor. He would have thought it all a dream if it weren’t for the voices that still plagued him. 

Nothing much had happened since that day, the princess had left and there were whispers of some nefarious plot to overthrow the kingdom. These rumors meant nothing to Shiro. He was more concerned with the whispering voices that seemed to haunt him every waking minute. 

While the voices haunted him in his waking hours, there were dreams that plagued him every night while he slumbered. Dreams or nightmares of a child of the forest, innocently walking toward a temple, and disappearing from the stone pedestal. Soon after disappearing, the child is replaced by a horrible demon wearing a shredded green tunic. 

This monster, always with dripping fangs and claws covered with a thick, deep red substance that was clearly blood would stalk toward him. Shiro would try to run, try to scream, but the horrible apparition would merely laugh cruelly. Inching closer and closer, it would get right up to where Shiro could feel the heat of its rancid breath streaming over him. It would rear back one blood soaked claw and swipe downward causing Shiro to awaken, screaming and drenched in sweat. 

When it first started, his mother would run in to check on him without fail, but her mission to save her son became less and less frequent with each passing day. 

She took him to see that old quack by Lake Hylia who would give him potion after potion, tonic after tonic to “take care of the problem.” When that had failed, the old crone in Kakariko was the next stop but to no avail. Not surprising really since her solution was also to throw potion upon potion. Soon enough, his mother decided that it would just be easier to ignore his screams of terror and avoid the topic of the voices altogether.

Though this is true, word often travels fast in a small town. Shiro soon became something akin to a plague, someone to be avoided at all costs, the loon of Hyrule. It hurt him greatly at first but he soon came to accept it and would often stay alone near the temple where he became doomed to be feared. 

On one such day, Shiro was sitting on a low hanging branch near the temple, listening to the voice bickering in his head. That’s something he never could understand. Sometimes, it seemed like they were trying to convince him of something but other times, they seemed to be like two children arguing over something silly. However, it would never take long before their spat ended and they seemed to turn on him again.

Suddenly, screaming erupted from the direction of the town. Shiro sat upright, shifting his balance so as not to topple from the tree. The smell of smoke quickly filled his nose. Crashes could be heard from all directions. He jumped from his perch and made his way to the town but the sight that he found there was more than anyone could ever imagine. 

Hoards of monsters crept along cobblestone walkways. His mouth hung agape as he watched creatures resembling humanoid boars running toward some villagers, his spear lowered to impale his helpless victims. Two skeletal warriors wielding swords and shields were locked in battle with one of the few remaining guards. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice screaming for mercy. 

Shiro ran to his home knowing that his mother was in trouble. He rounded the corner and heard an otherworldly scream. His feet came to an abrupt halt, completely paralyzed by the horrible cry. 

A withered figure skulked closer to his mother, its mouth open in a horrible gaping maw. He watched, horrified as the creature crept ever closer, his mother unable to move because of whatever force this monster had to control them. 

Finally, his mother seemed able to move. She began to run, to find a suitable hiding place from such a monstrosity. Before she could escape the grasp of the creature it released another scream, its spell taking control once again.

Its shriveled arms wrapped around his mother’s thin frame. Shiro, frozen in place, could do nothing but watch as the creature slowly drained the life from his mother. The color faded from her rosy skin, replacing it with a sickly, ashen gray. She released a final strangled gasp as the last of her life force left her body.

The spell finally lifted causing Shiro to buckle under the weight of what he had just witnessed. He stared at his mother’s still form, lying limply on the cobblestone. Hot, stinging tears welled in his eyes. He screamed in anger, causing the monster to turn its attentions on him. 

Shiro’s blood boiled throughout him as he watched the creature stalk closer to him. He knew that the creature was trying to cast its horrible spell on him but it was drowned out by the pounding in his ears. His eyes became clouded over, tinting everything with red. His hands groped blindly for anything that may be used as a weapon. Finally, his hands grasped what felt to be the handle of an old mallet that the local carpenter used to repair buildings with.

He lunged at the creature, tackling it to the ground. The mallet came crashing down on the creatures gaping visage. A ghastly cracking resounded throughout the alley. Shiro lifted the mallet and brought it back down quickly upon the monster. Again and again he struck it until nothing remained of its head except for an indiscernible mass of rotted flesh and coagulated blood.

Shiro crawled to his mother’s side, lifting her head gently and brushing her hair from her face. 

“Mom?” he called brokenly. 

He waited a moment before calling again. Still, no reply came from her lips. Tears streamed down Shiro’s face as he leaned forward to kiss his mother tenderly on the forehead. 

The crackling of a burning wood soon brought Shiro back to the situation at hand. He looked around to see a wall of flames erupting from the building in front of him. Desperately, he tried to carry his mother’s limp body but to no avail. Feeling powerless, he leaned forward, apologizing for being so weak and for being unable to give her a proper burial. 

Shiro followed the hoards of people as they made their way quickly to the open drawbridge. He felt the wooden bridge begin to crack and bow beneath his feet but did not stop until his feet were on the solid ground of Hyrule field. Turning back to the town, he watch helplessly as smoke billowed from the place he had called home for so long. 

Taking a few steps toward the mote, the weight of what had just happened began to tumble down on him. He fell to his knees, retching. 

"He could have prevented this but he refused..." whispered one of the voices that had plagued him since that fateful day in front of the temple in Hyrule Castle Town.

"Who?" Shiro asked through bitter tears.

"The child of the forest..." whispered the other.

"How could he prevent something like this?"

"He opened the Gates of Time..." 

"He removed the blade of evil's bane..."

"The Master Sword has been in his possession..."

"And he disappeared..."

"Hiding..."

"Running..."

The voices seemed to circle him, pounding in his ears. 

"How do you know all this?" 

Evil cackling reverberated in his head. Suddenly two elderly women sitting atop of ragged old brooms spun into existence.

"I am Koume," said one of the women, a large red jewel prominent upon her forehead.

"And I am Kotake," said the other who was wearing a large blue gem.

"We are known as the sorceresses Twinrova" they spoke in unison.

Shiro looked around him frantically at the other villagers that had escaped with him but found himself to be alone with the two elderly women.

“Why have you been haunting me for these past years?” Shiro questioned, his eyes darting between the two.

“Our lord has seen some potential in you...” Koume stated simply.

“We just wish to unlock that potential...” Kotake replied.

“You could be powerful...”

“Strong...”

“The hero you’ve always wanted to be...”

“How?” Shiro asked skeptically.

“Take up the mantle of our master...”

“Become his champion...”

“Help to take back the Master Sword...”

“And to stop the one from the forest from taking the power of the sages...”

The two sorceresses suddenly spun around and they were gone. Shiro found himself in Hyrule field again, other towns people surrounded him but seemed oblivious to him. 

“Take up his mantle...”

“We will be waiting at Lake Hylia come twilight...”


	3. Rebirth

The sun was setting low behind Death Mountain when Shiro reached Lake Hylia. He looked at the smoke billowing above the volcano. As far back as he could remember, there was a constant ring of smoke over Death Mountain but it looked different somehow. The smoke seemed to have taken on more of a reddish hue than its usual ashen gray.

"Must be close to erupting again," he reasoned aloud.

He walked closer to the bridge leading to the islands in the center of the vast lake. Seeing Koume and Kotake on the larger of the two islands, he made his way slowly across the rickety old rope bridge. Upon reaching the end of the bridge, Shiro found that the two women were not alone.

A tall man, with armor black as night and hair the color of fire was leaning against the old gnarled tree on the island, his arms folded across his chest. Shiro recognized him right away, being hard for anyone to forget a person like that. The three turned to Shiro, all smiling at him warmly, invitingly.

"Ah my dear boy!" the tall man exclaimed pushing himself away from the tree and making his way to Shiro.

"You're the man that was at the temple..."

"Yes, I do indeed remember you lad. You seemed to have such promise that I could not help but try to locate you." 

"What do you want of me?" Shiro asked, confused. "I am no warrior nor am I filled with magic that may prove useful."

The man nodded slowly, considering the boy's words, "Even the lowest of creatures may prove useful given the right situation. I am Ganondorf," the man introduced, his fist meeting his chest in salute.

"Shiro," he replied with a simple bow.

"I have seen potential in you dear Shiro. I merely wish to tap that potential and make you stronger, more powerful than you have ever been."

"Why? What do you wish to gain?"

"My boy, I just wish to protect the Golden Power from those who are unworthy."

"Such as?"

"Such as the false hero from the forest. The so called hero of time."

"Why do you doubt his abilities to become this hero of time?"

"Why would a 'hero' remove the one element in this world that would aid in destroying the evil in this world? To take this and hide it and himself away?"

Shiro was silent. He honestly had no answer why this hero would not act as such.

"Not only did he hoard away the Master Sword, but he will soon thirst for more power..." Koume stated.

"He will soon seek the power of the sages..." Kotake concluded.

“What do you want from me then?” Shiro questioned, still somewhat confused. 

“We merely asked that you help us to protect the power of the sage of water. To act as a guardian of the water temple,” Ganondorf answered.

Shiro stood in thought for a long moment. The only noises to be heard was the gentle lapping of ripples from the lake, the distant magpies, and a lone skulltula coming out for the night. Shiro stared at the moon that was beginning to peek over Death Mountain. He had always wanted to be a hero, to make a difference in the world. Maybe this was his chance.

“I’ll do it,” he said, turning back to the three. 

“Splendid,” Ganondorf replied. “May the ritual begin.”

Ganondorf produced a set of black adventurers garb, a black shield that stretched from Shiro’s left shoulder to his right, and a sword made of a mysterious black metal that appeared strong but was quite light. 

“This shall be your uniform, proving your fealty to me.”

Shiro silently suited up, donning the clothing that had been presented to him. He then strapped the ebony scabbard to his back along with his shield. His right fist came across his chest with an audible thump.

“Koume! Kotake! You may begin the ritual.”

Slowly they circled him, placing glowing purple powder in a pattern around him. He watched, mesmerized as they meticulously laid the powder. The twin sorceresses then floated to either side of Shiro. They began moving their arms and chanting unfamiliar words. 

The purple powder glowed brightly before turning black as pitch. The powder quickly turned to something more like vines that crept their way closer to Shiro. They wrapped around his feet and inched upward slowly. 

Suddenly, the vines pierced the dark leather of Shiro’s boots, piercing his feet and ankles. Needle sharp tendrils of magic wrapped their way up Shiro's legs slowly making their way upward.

"What's going on?!" he demanded. 

The sorceresses said nothing, merely continuing the dark magic ritual. The vines continuing to climb further up their victim became needle pricks burrowing into his skin to bind themselves. 

Panicking, Shiro grabbed at the vines ripping the barbs out of his arms. He screamed in pain as the barbed vines ripped through his flesh leaving bloody gashes in their wake. 

The dark magic wrapped around his wrists and hands pulling downward sharply, causing Shiro to buckle and fall to his knees. His eyes widened in fear as he struggled against his bonds. He screamed as the dark magic crept up his neck, the barbs burrowing sharply into his flesh. 

Upon reaching his face, the tendrils took on the role of needles, stitching themselves into a permanent mask replacing Shiro's face. Two vines snaked their way to his ears, stretching and slicing them into sharp points. The final stage gouged Shiro's eyes, replacing the sharp green with sinister red.

Shiro's lifeless body lay on the white marble slab in the middle of Lake Hylia. The only detectable movement came from the pulsating dark magic that engulfed him. An hour passed and the pulsing magic had fully entered him. 

"It is done..." Koume declared circling the body.

"Your champion is born..." stated Kotake.

"What of the boy?" Ganondorf asked, his deep voice level.

"He is technically no more..." Koume replied.

"Technically?" Ganondorf questioned.

"His body remains as a vessel only..." Kotake explained further.

"Excellent," he replied coolly.

They watched as the left hand of the mass of darkness slowly crept in front of him, pressing hard against the ground. He slowly pushed himself to a standing position. His body swayed slightly as the weight of the darkness that now filled his entire body. He raised his red glowing eyes to the three figures before him. 

"My liege..." he rasped in a voice sounding of echoes of itself.

Ganondorf circled the apparition, inspecting Twinrova's work.

"Shiro, my boy," Ganondorf called with false kindness.

"Who is this Shiro? I am Link," his voice echoing sinisterly.

He gave a bow and finished his salute his arm stiffly at his side. Turning, he stiffly marched to the blue light of the magic portal that opened in the center of the island. Stepping in the center, he faced them, giving a final salute from his chest and was whisked into the depths of the temple that lie deep within the confines of Lake Hylia.


End file.
